


Port

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7001965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another nightmare bothers Harry and he needs to find some peace of mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Port

Harry awoke with a jolt, breathing hard.

As his heart rate gradually steadied, he peered around his room, looking suspiciously at all the shadows and little nooks where something could emerge unawares. He shook his head. 12 Grimmauld Place was one of the most heavily warded residences in all of Britain. And after Voldemort’s defeat, before the remaining unrepentant Death Eaters had be rounded up, a new Fidelius had been placed on the house. Hermione, ever the quester for knowledge, had unearthed a modification from some old tome that allowed the secret-keeping to be divided between two people. She and Ron were the obvious choices.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d been having the same recurring nightmare for over two weeks. He wondered if the horrors would ever fade or if he’d simply grow wearily indifferent. He hated to use a Sleeping Draught. He was always groggy the following morning. It didn’t help that the last time he’d resorted to it, he’d nearly suffocated from smoke inhalation after the dying embers had burned through the small area rug before his fireplace. He was lucky that Kreacher had managed to Apparate him to the Hogwarts hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had made a fuss and kept him there for a week. 

He lay down again. After twenty minutes, he knew it was useless.

He grabbed his wand from his nightstand and crawled to the end of his brass bed. He unscrewed the bedknob.

“ _Portus_.”

It was a warm, sunny day, like it always was whenever he came here. Harry made his way to the little toolshed and took out a Nimbus 2000. Reaching the clearing, he shot into the air. He let out a whoop. He would never tire of the exhilaration. 

After tearing through the air doing whatever trick that came to mind, including a Wronski Feint, he felt a niggling sensation. He had barely defined it as a slight sense of boredom when a shout had him doing an about turn. Waving from a few feet away were his teammates from the year Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. And further away, the opposing side were blurry-faced rivals in green. Harry beamed and he sped toward the Quidditch pitch.

The game lasted what seemed like hours. After Harry finally caught the Snitch and was nearly choked to death by his exuberant teammates, he released the golden ball and watched it flutter and fade away. The Slytherins, his teammates, and the pitch also disappeared.

He landed gently near the shed and carefully put away the broomstick.

Removing the bedknob from his pocket, he reactivated it and landed in his bedroom.

As he tucked under the covers once more, sure he was tired enough to sleep the night through, he made a mental note to send a thank-you gift to Luna for her marvellously constructed sanctuary. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if Wrackspurts liked pumpkin pasties.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Bedknobs and Broomsticks


End file.
